Thief of Hearts
by hbananad
Summary: Squall is a thief who wants to steal all the pretty jewels he can. Cloud's been hired to stop him. There's just one problem - He's just met Leon, and his not-quite-family, who turn his world inside out. Just what do 'good' and 'evil' mean, anyway? CLC, AU
1. Heart of Earth

Originally from the StrifeHart meme on LJ (I did say that I get easily distracted by shiny objects, and this one in particular, so it's your own fault you if you didn't see this coming...

Anyway, I really, really hope this is actually interesting to people, because goodness knows I got completely carried away with it (hence it's a chapter fic, and not just a oneshot...)

To clear up possible early-on confusion - Leon, Cid, Vincent, Aerith, Tifa, and Yuffie all live together. Yuffie is the only minor and the one of them still in highschool - she's just turned 17 in this, and is a senior. They grew up together, and decided to live together to cut costs. Vincent and Aerith are Yuffie's legal guardians, but are not married, for obvious reasons (see pairings... _).

Vincent's an English teacher (Yuffie has his class right after lunch period), as I seem to be extremely attached to that job for him. Cid owns a garage/repair shop, and deals with everything from moving vans to microwaves. Tifa owns Seventh Heaven, where Leon helps out, and Aerith takes care of the house / all of them, as well as volunteering at various places.

Prompt: Squall is a master jewel thief, and Cloud's been sent to stop him.

Summary:

Pairings: Cleon, Valenwind, Possible others

He tapped the security code out on the number pad with gloved fingers, careful not to leave anything that could be used to find him – not a hair, not a finger print, _nothing._ This time would be just like all the others: the police would come, find nothing but the carefully printed card, and start another frenzy of investigation that would turn up nothing. Then the whole mess would die down for a while, or at least until he found the need to strike again.

Simple as that. Routine. _Boring._

Sometimes he wished it were more interesting. A generation ago, hell, even a few years ago, it hadn't been like this. There were investigators actually worth the tax money that went to paying them, ones who could reliably play the game.

Cat and mouse, you could call it, though cops and robbers would be more appropriate. Either way, there weren't any worthy players on the other side now. They were dead, or retired, and those left just didn't care.

_This_ time, though… This time should be different. Better. He'd heard rumors – that the city was fed up with him running free, and had nabbed a decent detective.

… 3, 1, 4, 1, 5, 9… there. The door clicked open as the pass code was approved, revealing a windowless, medium sized room, occupied only by a glass display case and a state-of-the-art security system.

That is, an _offline_ state-of-the-art security system. Not totally off – that would surely rouse attention – but there was a path made clear. All it took was taking the right route from the door to the dead-center display case and back again.

The intruder slid and twisted (because, as the one who had turned off the system so kindly pointed out, 'straight forward paths are for losers.'), neatly ending up in front of the prize.

It was a beautiful, one of the most beautiful he'd ever seen. A flawless emerald, about the size of a quarter, cut into a perfectly symmetrical heart, sitting serenely on a black cushion.

Grey eyes flicked to the side to read the label, confirming what he already knew.

The Heart of Earth. One of a collection of four gems, identical in size and shape, differing only in type of stone. Their maker had made only these. Well… he had made others, but once this set was completed, he'd destroyed all his other creations. These were his masterpieces, some of the most perfect stones known to man, and he hadn't been able to bear the thought of not attaining such perfection again.

So he committed suicide, shortly after giving the gems to his beloved.

There were tales of a fifth stone, though. Rumors that it would bring soul mates together, as the jeweler and his love had been.

The thief (okay, fine: _unauthorized-procurer-of-expensive-if-not-priceless-items-by-less-than-legal-means._) wasn't sure if it existed, much less if the stories were true. It would certainly be fun to find out, though he was pretty sure he'd need the first four to find where it was.

Perhaps this rumored new detective would even present a challenge for him. That would make it so much more fun.

What was his name…?

Oh, yes. _Cloud._

***##***

Twenty minutes later a security guard noticed the door to a certain room was open, and a glass display case was devoid of a key item.

Replacing the (priceless, may I remind you) Heart was a simply rectangle of cardstock, unremarkable except for the word printed on it, in a plain, blocky script.

"Squall"

***##***

About half and hour after _that,_ one Cloud Strife was roused from his warm, comfy bed by the annoyingly loud ring tone that heralded his boss calling.

At three in the morning.

" 'Lo?" Cloud yawned, flipping open his cell phone.

"_Strife. There's been a break-in at the museum."_

"Hm? What'd they take…?"

"_The mystery-man again. Squall. He made off with the Heart of Earth."_

"He did **what now**?" Well. That was one way to wake up. Roughly three cups of caffeine, hold the coffee that might dilute it.

"_Squall – the one we hired to __**specifically**__ to catch – has stolen a priceless jewel from the city. I want you here in twenty minutes, Strife. Best get used to odd hours, he likes to switch around when he steals things."_

And then there was only the vaguely annoying beeping noise that signaled he'd been hung up on. Cloud spent a few quiet seconds staring at his phone and listening to this vaguely annoying beeping noise before blinking and scrambling to get dressed.

One does not take one's boss lightly. Especially if said boss is Sephiroth, and one would like to keep ones job, life, and important body parts.

***##***

Aerith idly glanced at the paper Cid was reading as she filled the mechanic's mug with coffee, and then looked back at the front page, actually reading it this time.

The coffee pot crashed to the ground, immediately gaining everyone's attention, as the normally-calm brunette turned several shades of red (and a few interesting purples) before turning on her heel and storming upstairs.

"…" Four pairs of eyes followed her progress, wary of moving until she was gone.

The answer to the (wisely) unspoken question came in the form of lots of yelling several moments later.

'Several' being, of course, the exact number of moments needed to get to Leon's room. Speaking of…

"_**LEON!" **_Oh, yeah, Aerith was pissed. That didn't happen often, but when it did…

Bad Things tended to occur.

Today, 'Bad Things' seemed to involve being pushed down the stairs.

"… ow. Aerith, that _hurt!"_ Now, it should be noted that Leon is not usually a whiny person. But keep in mind that he's also not usually dragged out of bed and shoved down the stairs.

… not by Aerith, anyway. Tifa and Yuffie were a completely different story, even if they did prefer tactics like loud noises and cold water. "What was that for?"

"That was for being a reckless idiot. I thought you said it'd take them at least until the museum opened to find it! Well, it's 7:15, the museum doesn't open for another 45 minutes, and guess what's on the front page?"

Cid frowned at his paper, then flipped to the front. It was a slightly interesting habit of his to read the paper back to front, one that no one questioned overly much. In very large print across the top it proclaimed:

**JEWEL THEIF STRIKES AGAIN!**

'_Squall' Steals Priceless Emerald!_

The page then went on to give details about the emerald (and for those who'd been living under a rock, about Squall. That particular section didn't amount to a whole lot of information, though, as very little was fact and not rumor.), how and why it might have been taken, and various useless bits of gossip.

But there was one key, golden detail, that was the only thing Leon had been looking for.

"… _The team led by Inspector Sephiroth Jenova has acquired a new member, Detective Cloud Strife, and they hope to…"_

Leon grined at the newspaper, then winced when Aerith thwacked him on the head with a wooden spoon. "Well?"

"I, uh, may have forgotten to shut the door on my way out…"

"AGAIN?" Yuffie demanded, retrieving her toast as the toaster 'binged' at her, and smearing it with blueberry jam, before slapping the two pieces together as a sort of toasted blueberry jam sandwich. "That's what, the third time in a row?"

"Forth." Vincent interjected, flipping a page in his book and stealthily swiping Cid's coffee, seeing as the rest was currently spilled on the floor. "And he left the window unlocked the time before that."

"Speaking of time, though…" Tifa looked pointedly at the clock. "Shouldn't you be off to work by now?"

Vincent finally looked up from his book and, upon seeing the time, stood up very, very fast.

Yuffie joined him in the mad dash to gather papers and get ready. Aerith just rolled her eyes at him and tossed a piece of chocolate into each of the brown-paper-bag lunches on the counter, anger forgotten.

"Yuffie, do you have all your homework?" Receiving a nod, the flower girl handed over the bat labeled with a capital letter 'Y.'

After confirming that, no, he hadn't forgotten his grade book, and yes, all the pages of poetry he was supposed to hand back today were in the proper folder and graded, Vincent also got his lunch, predictably marked with a 'V.'

The two of them ran out the door, Vincent grabbing car keys as he went, and Yuffie stuffing the last of her toast-and-jam creation into her mouth.

Five minutes later they were safely on their way to Hollow Bastion High School, and Cid finally realized his coffee was missing.

"_DAMIT, VINCE!"_

***#End:ChapterOne#***

PLOT will happen in the next chapter, I promise. This is just... introductions. Though more will need to made.

Questions / comments / concerns / requests can be voiced by clicking that pretty little green button there. Feel free to remain anonymous if you so desire.


	2. Fate is kind of a jerk

Hey there! Look at me, actually putting things up on time. _

I have a question for you people, actually – I've got planned appearances (and professions) for a few of the Organization members so far. My goal is for them all to show up at some point. BUT – do you guys want a few chapters, probably scattered throughout the story, that focus exclusively on the more minor characters? I've got a few planned, and they might show up anyway, but I really would like an opinion on this, and if you have any pairings you'd like to show up because of it. Feel free to ask~

There will be a poll on my profile, to be updated as I get ideas. Please vote for what extra chapters you want to see, and drop a review to request something new! Backgrounds and flashbacks are also totally cool, if that's what you'd like to see.

Anyhow, I've decided I should probably start replying to reviewers in stories, because goodness knows my computer skills are awful as it is, and I'm not sure if the replies I've tried to send actually worked. So here goes. If I had nothing in particular that needed to be said or answered, you're listed at the bottom! Order is nothing particular this time, though I might get fancy later. Maybe. You can guess or something…

Nekotsubasa – I wanted a not-awkward way to have them all interact. Childhood friends are always good, but seemingly overdone. Lots of people in one house, however, presented a practical answer, in addition to giving more time for everyone to be in the same place at the same time. Also, Tifa was at breakfast, she just didn't do much besides point out the time. But she shows up a lot in this chapter, so hopefully I've made up for it.

… okay, that's actually the only coherent reply I had. Heh. In any case, thank you also to TwilightMystery, Clockwork Phoenix, and loving4tomorrow for offering your opinions. It makes me happy. I hope this chapter is satisfactory, and if I made a mistake (your names included), I suck and you should point it out so it can be fixed.

Enjoy Chapter Two!

***#ChapterTwo#***

Cloud glared at Fenrir. Stupid thing _had_ to break now, didn't it? He'd gotten it fixed a month ago, and he was pretty sure that it was the same part acting up again.

The black bike chose not to reply.

Zack, on the other hand, did. "You know, there's a mechanic I know who's not too far from here. Good at what he does, too. I haven't had any problems with my engine since he looked at it."

"Your point?"

"Would you like me to introduce you to Cid?"

The glare never wavering from the poor lump of machinery, Cloud nodded.

***##***

The shop wasn't much to look at. Scruffy, on might call it. Everything in it seemed to be worn, but in a good way. It was oddly comforting to be around things that were obviously meant to be used, and were used accordingly, and not just there for decoration.

Cid Highwind was much like his shop – plain, straightforward, practical, and a gruff sort of kind.

"Sure, I can fix 'er. 'S just a matter of new sparkplugs 'n better break pads than what ya got now."

That might have been the end of the whole thing, too. Under other circumstances, Cloud would have simply thanked him and come back in a few days to pick his bike up. _If_, that is, a light bulb in Seventh Heaven had not decided that it was done, job be damned, and gone out, and _if_ Tifa had not noticed it, and _if_ Leon had not been the nearest convenient person to go get a new one, and _if_ they didn't happen to store the light bulbs in Cid's garage.

But all these things happened, and so Leon entered the shop, fully intending to find a light bulb and be about his business.

Thus, Cloud and Leon met.

The authoress would love to tell you what their initial thoughts were, but sadly, they weren't. That is to say, nothing coherent could be picked out of the mess, except perhaps the words 'cute' and 'nice eyes,' and possibly 'light bulb be damned,' but that last one might be pushing it.

Cid did not help the situation by realizing that since Zack had taken off and his bike was currently resting in the garage, Cloud had no way of getting home, and oh-so-kindly asked (read: demanded) that Leon take him home.

Thought processes fortunately returned after Cid had shoved them out the door and in the general direction of Seventh Heaven, to give Tifa her light bulb and actually have Leon's bike to take Cloud home on.

"So…" Leon started awkwardly, but trailed off for lack of anything to say.

"Look, you don't have to take me home, I can just call Zack or someone…"

This earned him a slightly panicked look. _I can't do that. Cid'll tell Vin, who'll tell Tifa, who'll know that I never left because I'll have been with her at the bar, and then she, Aerith, and Yuffie will gang up on me. It'll be so much easier just to take you home in the long run._

Well, he could have said that. It was, after all, the truth. But he didn't.

"It's no trouble."

The trouble, of course, came much later, as trouble is wont to do. Much like Fate, trouble enjoys hiding, luring you into a false sense of security, before slapping you in the face and pushing you off a building into oncoming traffic.

This could also be an example of what we like to call 'karma,' but that's a story for later.

***##***

Seventh Heaven was a moderately popular bar. That is, the locals who drank were regulars, the locals who occasionally drank came there to drink, and the locals who didn't drink were taken for special occasions. Everyone else only ever heard of it if a local mentioned it or a local took them there.

Tifa was perfectly fine with this. In fact, she preferred it. Busy bars were loud, impersonal, and just not her thing. She _liked_ the homey feel of her bar, the peace and quiet that was only broken every week or two (rather than every night) when there was slightly too much alcohol and stress in the same room. But those incidents were always fixed quickly, as she had no patience for them and tossed out the drunks as soon as fights started up, making sure that she or Aerith called their families later to make sure they got home alright.

Honestly, she wasn't sure why she employed Leon there. He certainly didn't have a lot to do. So instead he checked IDs and cleaned tables and swept up broken glass and fixed things. Occasionally he would join her in throwing out drunks, but mostly he just kept a list so she could remember which families to call later.

Leon's job description may have said 'bouncer,' but he really was the handy man.

This all is relevant because it was why he had been sent for a light bulb. Tifa really wasn't sure why they kept all the light bulbs at Cid's, but at least they didn't move around like the spare fuses. In any case, Cid's garage was only two blocks away, and it shouldn't be taking this long.

She was starting to get slightly (and illogically – Leon was capable of taking care of himself just fine) worried when he opened the door, stepping only half way in to call across the room to her. "I'm taking one of Cid's customers home. His bike's in the garage and he doesn't have a ride."

This established, he turned around to leave, but hadn't made it five feet before Tifa was flinging the door open and grabbing his shoulder.

Yanking him back inside, she shoved him in the general direction of the burnt-out light. "Don't you _dare_ go anywhere without fixing that light!" The bartender turned her attention almost immediately to the blonde man standing nervously a few yard away, pulling him inside as well.

"You're the one he's taking home?" A hesitant nod. "Good. Sit down, I'll go get the map and we can figure out a route while Leon actually does his job." Despite her tone, the mock-glare she sent Leon was not one of a boss scolding an employee, but an older sister shaking her head as her baby brother made a fool of himself _again._ Turning back to the blonde, she continued as if she hadn't just dragged him into her establishment and shoved him into a seat at the bar. "So, what's your name and who's the friend who left you all alone with a broken bike?"

"I'm Cloud. Er… how can you tell I had a friend with me before?" He fidgeted in the previously mentioned bar stool that he'd been shoved into.

"Honey, no one finds Cid's place without being introduced. We're not exactly flashy." Tifa grabbed a rag and started wiping down the counters.

"Ah. Well, Zack told me, actually…"

"Zack Faire? Really? HEY LEON!" The last bit was yelled across the room, nearly causing the poor brunet to fall off the table he'd been standing on to reach the ceiling. She took his glare as an opportunity to continue. "He's friends with Zack! I can't believe we haven't met you yet, Cloud!"

"Er…." Obviously Cloud wasn't quite sure what was going on. "Why should we have met…?"

"Zack didn't tell you about Aerith? I'm surprised, he's usually so enthusiastic about it…"

"Aerith? No, I know about her, but… I still don't get it."

Fortunately, Leon finished with the light bulb (and righted the chair he'd knocked over when Tifa yelled at him), and came to the rescue. "Aerith's a friend of ours. She's also one of our housemates, and Zack is actually over for dinner frequently. Tifa's just amazed you haven't been dragged along yet."

The dark haired girl grinned evilly. "He will be, though, now that we know he exists. Plus, he has to come back sometime to pick up his bike, so it's not like he can get away…" Leon caught the look in her eyes and glared at her.

"There will be no plotting with Yuffie to traumatize the poor man."

"It's not traumatizing! Usually…"

He rolled his eyes, offering a nervous-looking Cloud a reassuring smile. "You're still not plotting. Now, did you actually get the map, or just stand here talking?"

***##***

Vincent sighed as he spelled 'asparagus' for Yuffie for the third time in an hour. Why she couldn't just get a dictionary or look back at what she had already written was beyond him, but it probably had something to do with the fact that she was… well, that she was Yuffie.

And that pretty much explained everything in the universe, as far as their house was concerned. Everything that happened here happened because the people he lived with were all completely insane in their own special ways, himself included. Yuffie was just the most obvious.

So he tuned her out, with a vague motion that meant 'go ask someone else' (not that she would follow this advice, even if she understood the meaning behind the motion), and went back to grading papers.

It was painful to look at, really. Just seeing some of them… they were supposed to be smart people, weren't they? He taught the highest level of English one could take in high school, _surely_ that meant his students could tell the difference between _your _and _you're_?

Although… Yuffie was one of his students, and couldn't spell asparagus properly to save her life. Perhaps standards had just slipped.

He gave the paper he was looking at a withering glare. Unfortunately, it was an inanimate object, as well as not at all responsible for the grammatical atrocities that had been committed on its surface, and as such did not respond.

Pity. Watching it burst into flame would have been satisfying.

His attempt at causing the paper to self-destruct using only a red pen and a scowl was foiled as the door slammed open, revealing a soaked Cid and Tifa.

Apparently the sky had decided to be mean and dump a storm on them as they were walking home. Not that he was really complaining, as Cid's once-white (now covered in grease, oil, and other messes that came from working with engines all day, but still mostly white) shirt was soaked, offering a nice view…

Bad thoughts. Go back to grading papers; ignore the boyfriend standing dripping wet in the doorway…

Tifa was talking to Yuffie about something as she dragged the younger girl upstairs. Vincent wisely decided that he _really_ didn't want to know what they were up to this time, and instead chose to grab a dishtowel and head over to Cid, draping it over his head and scolding him for possibly catching a cold as he started to dry the blonde's hair.

***##***

And there you have it. Chapter two is done. And I ended with Cid and Vin again. _

Brief explanations of things-that-should-probably-be-explained-before-I-really-confuse-people-because-I-couldn't-find-a-nice-way-to-explain-them-in-context: Vincent teaches the highest level of English, as has been established. Yuffie takes his class, though I'm not sure why this was allowed, as it's usually policy that parents can't teach their kids, and Vincent _is_ her legal guardian. Or one of them, at least.

Anyway, the way the school works is a little odd – students are divided into grades, obviously. But, all four grades are mixed up into 'teams' (there's currently five of them, and the teachers get to vote on names every year). Teachers only teach people in their team. If a student is advanced in one subject, they take it with the higher grades in their team. Again, it's pretty obvious that Yuffie and Vin are on the same team.

People who share both grades and teams are referred to as 'pod-mates.' Seriously, don't ask why…


	3. SS1 Language of Love

So, this was the only one that got a vote at all.

Oh, well, it was my favorite, so I'm happy to be writing it.

More ideas would be lovely, if you have any…

It should be noted – the school system is confusing, yes. However, I forgot to mention that the 'extra' teachers (art, music, PE…) are shared by all the teams. Really, it's not that big of a school…

From now on, all chapters that are side stories will have titles labeling them as such (so, SS.#.Title)

I threw in a bit of AkuRoku just because it seemed to make sense at the time. Hopefully no one minds.

We will return you to your regularly scheduled plot in the next chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I always forget to put these, but I think it's kinda obvious that I don't own anything except the plot idea.

Oh, and this occurs about a year before our story starts. Just in case you were wondering.

***#Side Story One – Language of Love#***

Demyx loved Zexion.

It had taken him about a year and a half to figure it out, but he was pretty sure by now.

They had met a month before school started last year, when their job interviews had accidentally been scheduled at the same time. The poor secretary had floundered for a moment or two before running to talk to the principal.

Half an hour later, both were hired.

Looking back after having worked at HBHS for a while, Demyx was surprised it had gone that smoothly. It certainly hadn't seemed what he would call 'smooth' back then, but now that he knew what life was like here, it really was. Compared to daily life here, that had been a cakewalk.

Daily life, after all, usually involved more explosions.

***##***

In the months following, accidental circumstances threw them together a few more times. They didn't talk a whole lot, and not at all outside of work, but Demyx was fascinated with the other. Zexion was… _interesting._

And that's probably when the watching started.

He refused to call it stalking, because the word 'stalking' implied doing things like rooting through trash and making creepy phone calls, which Demyx obviously did not do.

No, he simply… observed. And listened. And after a while, he started to learn things.

Like how it was common knowledge that Zexion was a part of the Oblivion team, but stayed out of the prank wars and general rivalry with the Turks.

Demyx, however, soon realized that this was not necessarily true. The quiet man was not above participating subtly when provoked, in an eye-for-an-eye fashion.

For example, under Zexion's watch, the library had become a no-man's-land, free for anyone needing sanctuary. Anyone who didn't respect that quickly found themselves with a string of bad luck and various pieces of blackmail posted around the school. The same went for those with overdue books.

Zexion had a temper, but it wasn't explosive. His revenge was always carefully planned for maximum embarrassment to the unfortunate soul who had crossed him, and was rarely traceable back to him with any sort of solid evidence.

He learned other things as well, of course. They weren't nearly as insightful or profound or secret, but they were still useful.

Zexion loved chocolate, but couldn't stand plain milk chocolate. He was allergic enough to apples to need to carry an epipen. He was fairly talkative when he had something he wanted to say, outside of the library anyway. He didn't like crowds. He lived two blocks away from Demyx, and took the same bus to get to school.

And most of all, the librarian loved words and languages. There was always some sort of bi-lingual dictionary on his desk, and he seemed to enjoy dabbling in several languages, even if he wasn't fluent in them.

Demyx loved him for all this and more. There was only one problem.

He had no idea how to tell.

***##***

Surprisingly enough, it was a student who came up with the answer, even if they hadn't meant to.

Demyx was considered one of the 'approachable' teachers. Music was an extra class that you didn't have to be in any particular team to take and have him as a teacher, and in any case, his team was fairly neutral. That, and he wasn't seemingly insane like about half of the staff. That was always a plus.

So when Roxas, a bright student on the Oblivion team who played cello, came to him seeking advice for Valentine's Day, he wasn't that surprised.

What _did_ surprise him was that Roxas still hadn't asked the object of his affections out. But Roxas's explanation was sound – he wanted it to be special, memorable. Something that would show that he really cared.

And so Demyx smiled and told him to think about what his crush liked.

"Fire." Was the immediate reply, closely followed by, "Peanut-butter cookies. Chemistry. Music. Uh… the color red, chrysanthemums…"

"And how could you use these to ask them out?"

Roxas stared at him for a moment, then grinned and ran off to start on his new project.

And suddenly Demyx knew how to tell Zexion that he cared.

***##***

Valentine's Day was a day Zexion could usually care less about. It was simply a nuisance, with students nervous, joyful, hopeful, sad, and not really paying attention.

This year seemed to be especially bad.

The day had started off just fine, until he got to school. Then he was forced to remember what day it was, because there was a red heart-shaped candle, arranged among red-edged chrysanthemums sitting by the doors to the school, flickering cheerfully and amazingly undisturbed. The sign above it happily proclaimed 'For the Flurry of the Dancing Flames' in flowing script.

Zexion initially had no idea who that was supposed to be, but it seemed to work because a few hours later Axel was walking hand in hand with Roxas, one of the flowers tucked behind the shorter's ear.

It wasn't very long into the day when he found the first one.

Just a simple heart, apparently cut out of computer paper, with messy handwriting scrawled in dark blue ink.

Ich liebe dich.

Frowning, he had turned it over and over in his hands, searching for a hint of who might have sent it. Nothing except the German on the front.

So he pocketed it, not really thinking about what he was doing, and continued to check in books.

A while later, as he was shelving the non-fiction section, another paper fluttered to the ground, with no hint of where it might have come from.

_Ti amo._

That hadn't revealed anything, either, and it absently joined the first in his pocket.

Zexion was decently confused when he found the third taped to his computer monitor. Who was sending these? Why? It didn't make sense.

_Is tù mo ghrà._

He knew what they were saying, it was quite obvious. They all held the same sentence, in various languages. What he didn't know was what purpose they served. And so they collected in his pocket.

_Je t'aime._

The day was halfway over when a student came into the library, passed him another of the hearts, told him another teacher had asked him to deliver it, and walked out.

_Rakastan sinua._

Another teacher…? Well, that narrowed it down a bit. But it still didn't explain.

Ik hou van je. - Taped to the library doors.

_Seni seviyorum. _– Tucked into a returned book.

_Mahal kita. _– Handed over by a decidedly more cheerful student than the previous one.

_Szeretlek. _– Folded into a paper-airplane and tossed at his head by Yuffie (why did that not surprise him?).

By the end of the day, Zexion was confused and a little hopeful that _maybe_ it actually _was_ who he wanted it to be, and even if it wasn't, the mysterious giver-of-paper-hearts would reveal themselves.

So he was understandably disappointed as he walked out of the building after closing up the library, with no hint whatsoever.

However, as he turned away from shutting the door to head to the bus stop, a piece of paper drifted down in front of him.

The librarian reached out and caught it, flipping it over to reveal the message,

_Jag älskar dig._

No sooner had he read the message than it seemed a basket of them had been tipped over and a soft rain of white paper surrounded him. From what he glimpsed, some where repeated, but there were also some new languages.

_Aš tave myliu._

_Jeg elsker deg._

_Ek is life vir jou._

_Cara 'ch._

Slowly, he looked upwards, toward the roof, where the hearts had come from.

Sitting there, smiling cheerfully next to an empty-looking basket, was the music teacher, hand outstretched in simple sign-language.

And Zexion simply had to smile and sign in return, as one last heart stuck itself in his hair.

_I love you._

***#End Side Story One#***

I hardly think this whole thing warrents translation, since it all says 'I love you.' (Or maybe it doesn't. I used Google Translate for most of it). But you can have a list of languages, in the order I used them:

Ich liebe dich. **German**

_Ti amo. _**Italian**

_Is tù mo ghrà. _**Gaelic (specifically Irish)**

_Je t'aime. _**French**

_Rakastan sinua. _**Finnish**

Ik hou van je. **Dutch**

_Seni seviyorum. _**Turkish**

_Mahal kita. _**Filipino**

_Szeretlek. _**Hungarian**

_Jag älskar dig._** Swedish**

_Aš tave myliu. _**Lithuanian**

_Jeg elsker deg. _**Norwegian**

_Ek is life vir jou. _**Afrikaans**

_Cara 'ch. _**Welsh**

See you in the next chapter (which will have the actual plot)!


	4. The Purple Notebook

Oh, God, this is so unbelievably late. It just wasn't cooperating, and then when it finally did, I left for camp. And then I got back from camp and we had no internet until approximately an hour ago. I'm really, really, REALLY sorry about all the mess that everything has gone through, and I hope you can all forgive me for it. Everything after this will, with some luck, go a whole lot smoother.

Moving on, there aren't really any _questions_ in reviews, but I'd like to say thank you to Animegurl14. You should as well. Why? Because without her, this whole train wreck of a fic would never have started - she's the OP from Livejournal. I'm extremely happy she's found it, and less happy with myself for taking three months to get this chapter up.

Oh, and you may notice a distinct lack of our lovely group of housemates in this chapter. It wasn't totally intentional, but… face it, those who are technically the 'good guys' need their spot-light, too.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned these characters, I can pretty much guarantee you I wouldn't have had to deal with my internet being out for longer than a few hours. Therefore, it's pretty obvious I don't own anything except a notebook, a pen, and a the basic plot for this story.

Let's get this started!

***#Chapter Three#***

Leon killed the engine of his bike, stepping off and walking it into the garage.

He was soaked, there was no question about that. It had started to pour about halfway to Cloud's apartment, and the rain was still coming down. The blonde had offered to let him stay and dry off, but he had declined, saying he didn't want the others to worry.

That had only been half of a truth.

He didn't want the others to worry, yes, but he also would rather Tifa and Yuffie not assume things, which they obviously would.

And Leon didn't really feel entirely comfortable with entering the other's home just yet. No sense in giving things away, the game had only started.

Smiling slightly, he opened the door that led to the kitchen and was promptly tackled by a hyperactive teenager demanding help with homework.

***##***

"That's really all the material I **have**, sir. Sorry. I'd tell you to look through the newspapers, but that's mostly worthless rumors. The only **definite** evidence is the tapes, and he's good enough that we only have three that show him at all. All the cards and evidence are still in examination, though I'm not sure what they expect to find if they haven't gotten anything yet…" The slightly harassed-looking- intern handed over a small box, plain brown with a neatly printed label.

"Guess that's all I get to wrok with, then… Thanks." Cloud accepted the box and turned to leave.

"Oh, yeah! I don't know how reliable this is, because it's second- or third-hand by now, but apparently people are in agreement that Squall has dark hair, probably brown or black, but definitely not blonde."

_Well, that only rules out half the city_ was what he wanted to say. What he actually did was call 'Thank you' over his shoulder as he shut the door to the office.

Once safely outside, he sighed. How was he going to go about this? Squall obviously knew what he was doing, and so did whoever was helping him.

Wait. 'Whoever was helping him.' Of course you'd need a team – a good one – to pull off all of this. They were professional, and worked well together. There had obviously been no major fights among them, or someone would have let something slip.

But how many would you need? Too few and everyone would be overworked, too many and the risks grew too high.

With this new idea to toy with, he wandered back to his desk.

***##***

Cloud considered it an unfortunate turn of fate that all the people on the Squall case shared an office that in turn connected to the office of their superior, who was in charge of the Squall case and a few others involving the black market. Sadly, there were only two detectives currently on the assignment – himself and Zachary Faire.

Cloud and Zach had gone to college together, and the overly-enthusiastic man had actually lived a few doors down in the dorms. Oddly enough, Sephiroth had taught a class that they both took, and so was already familiar with the two he'd hired for the case.

Well, to be fair (pun not intended. Mostly), Zach had been hired about a year ago, seeing as he graduated before Cloud. But no progress had been made, and so the city had decided that another 'expert' was needed so they could stop loosing all this money to Squall and authorized another detective on the case.

Which left poor Cloud to be tackled by Zach on a fairly regular basis. It didn't help that they were neighbors in their apartment building, either.

Expecting to receive an armful of the older man, the blonde carefully angled himself so that the box would receive minimal damage. Imagine his surprise when no one appeared to hug him.

It was nice, but at the same time a little creepy.

Setting the box on his desk, he plopped down and grabbed the purple spiral notebook (sadly the last the store had on that particular day, and so it was a very un-manly pastel) he intended to use for notes on the case.

Currently there were a few scribbled notes about the emerald, the security in the room, and the possible ways one could have gotten around it. There was also a sketch of the layout, and, in capital letters underlined a few times, the word 'WOW,' with an arrow pointing toward the section about the security.

Obviously Zach had gotten his notebook at some point, since the 'WOW' was not in his handwriting.

Flipping to a clean page, he started to jot down whatever came to mind about how the team worked, and who would be needed.

_+Squall = storm – refrence to something? Or actually a name?  
_

_+Obviously a team – how many?_

_+Need: _

_Recon? _

_Shut off security_

_Materials_

_Actually physically steal whatever_

_Selling item once stolen_

_Backup?_

_+How do they determine what to steal? Random, or patron?_

_+WHO THEY HELL BUYS THESE? It's pretty obvious they're stolen…_

_+Is this the team's only income? _

_+If no, are other incomes only supplementary/hobbies?_

_+Squall = male, fairly tall, dark hair = probably half the guys in this city_

_+Squall + Team __ Out in the open or very secretive in the Underworld?_

_+Do they live close to each other?_

_+How do they communicate when not in the immediate vicinity of each other?_

_+What kind of people?_

The last question bothered him the most, because he wasn't sure why he'd asked it. Did it really matter what kind of people they were? Obviously they'd be a little… off… to be a part of such an operation, but considering that it had taken until now for anyone to realize there even _was_ a team of any sort… they had to be close-knit and secretive to begin with.

Groaning, Cloud decided to leave that angle alone for now and pulled out the first security tape.

***##***

An hour later found him still rotating through the tapes, trying every trick he knew to get some idea of what the person looked like. Tilting the screen sideways, adjusting the contrast… nothing was helping. All he could figure out was what he already knew. Tall, male, long-ish dark hair tied back tightly (Well, maybe the length of the hair was helpful, but probably not really. It was too easy to change).

Everything was vague, far too vague. He could be almost anyone. He might not actually live in the city at all. Chances were pretty good he had a day job, possibly even a wife and kids (who may or may not have known the whole story about what he did for a living). Or maybe they did know. Maybe he didn't have them, maybe he lived with his team; maybe he really _was_ just a part of the Underworld. He might not actually be on public record at all.

The search was essentially looking for a ghost.

The blonde jumped out of his thoughts as one of Zack's particular brand of back-breaking hugs enveloped him from behind.

"How's it going, Spiky?"

After several moments spent recovering his breath, he was able to respond with a simple "Not well."

Still holding onto him, Zach leaned around to read over his shoulder. "A team? Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. See, you're already making progress!"

Cloud turned to glare half-heartedly at him. "What progress? I've got a half-baked idea that doesn't actually tell anyone anything about who's stealing things. That is definitely not progress."

He received a shrug in return. "Half-baked ideas are better than no ideas at all. Come to think of it, though, I'm really not sure why we didn't think of this angle before…"

"Fresh eyes. You haven't been looking at the data for years, you've been looking at it for hours. Of course you're going to see what we overlooked." Both of the detectives looked up, startled, at the silver haired man standing in the doorway to the office.

Sephiroth Jenova was technically in charge of the Squall investigation, but he was _also_ in charge of three other investigations that had much more resources and evidence and took up more time. As a result, Zach and Cloud were pretty much left to manage themselves, provided they sent in adequate, timely reports and didn't spend too much money.

"Yeah. Speaking of looking at things, I'm gonna go take a look at the museum now that it's light out and I can see the outside." Cloud stood, untangling himself from Zach, and grabbed his notebook and coat.

***##***

The museum told little more by day than it did by night. After gaining permission from the museum director to wander around wherever he needed, Cloud started his search at the door to the room that – until a few days ago – had housed the Heart of Earth.

The police force and the press had both been all over the place by now, so there wasn't going to be much of a chance of finding evidence of _who_ Squall was, but… maybe there'd be something that told _how_ he'd gotten through security.

The immediate area around the glass display case was surrounded by pressure sensors, but to reach the keypad without standing on them actually wasn't that much of a problem, as Cloud found out when he tried it. Uncomfortable, yes, but a taller person would have an easier time of it. If you knew the code and could get to the very edge of the sensors, it would be relatively simple to grab the emerald and get out.

With no windows, Squall had obviously both arrived and left through the door (either purposefully or accidentally not shutting it behind him, which is what alerted security to the theft in the first place, rather than, say, loud crashes or alarms that should have gone off _before_ the jewel was taken), and had probably used the same path forward and back. To reach the keypad (which he had to have done, since there was no sign of forced entry) required going either around or over the case. There was nothing to suggest going over was in any way practical, so he'd probably gone around.

The various heat and motion sensors around the room would make the path difficult, but if you just turned off a few key ones, not actually impossible.

Sketching out a path in his pale purple notebook, Cloud smiled triumphantly. One part of the mystery solved. Someone had used an outside computer to hack into (there was no sign of entry or tampering in the central security room) the system and turned off three devices. Then it was just a simple matter to get around that anyone who was decently flexible and could move quietly could get through.

The whole thing was elegant and well pulled-off, more proof that the theoretical team had been working together for quite a while and _definitely_ knew what they were doing.

Resolving to call in someone else – who was better with computers – to see if they could trace where the hacker had come from or something, Cloud made his way to the bus stop to head back home, since he had yet to get his bike back.

***##***

Reviews are appreciated, even if they're just nagging for the next chapter! Questions, on the other hand, are simply amazing and it's ALWAYS a good idea to ask them. Even the "stupid" ones, such as _'Is Yuffie's favorite jelly actually blueberry?'_ (Which it's not, that's just what they had left in the house.)


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